


too tired to be in love

by kiath



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Angst, Depression, M/M, post-filming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-23
Updated: 2007-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-04 07:46:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiath/pseuds/kiath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short and angsty post-NZ, mid-depression, Dom-based wander.</p>
            </blockquote>





	too tired to be in love

It's all about the flick of the wrist, the spread of his fingers as he lets his mouth take hold of the cigarette for a brief moment. It's all about the purposefully slow drag, the insistent inhalation; the stop-motion suicide each and every time. He holds his breath till his lungs burn and wills the damage onward, daring it, a silent plea to just do _something_ this time.

"You should have come, it was wild," Elijah says as he climbs onto the sofa, pulling the quilt away from Dom's body without asking permission. Dom tries to pull it back, but it's a feeble attempt, even by his own admission, his protest nothing but a pathetic moan. "Open bar. I'm fucking wasted." 

Dom doesn't need to told: the whisky on Elijah's breath is sour and strong and it makes him wince. Dom's head is crushed against the arm of the sofa, and Elijah's in his face no matter how much he twists. "Stop it," Elijah grouses, pushing his lips against Dom's jawline, missing his mouth again. "C'mon, don't."

"What are you doing?" Dom protests weakly. "Fuck off!"

Elijah doesn't quite do as he's told, but he gives a little, pushing himself up and away, one hand on the armrest, the other on the back of the sofa. He pauses, looks down at Dom, and grins. "Don't be a cunt, Dom. C'mon, I'm horny," he says, wheedling, leaning back on his haunches and trying his best to pull the quilt out of Dom's grasp.

Dom lets go, but pushes on Elijah's hands when they go to his boxer shorts. "I thought you said we weren't doing this anymore," Dom protests. Even if they were, it would be pointless for Elijah to try; there have been no signs of life there for a while now, not that Dom would ever admit it to anyone.

"I changed my mind."

"You-," Dom grasps and twists Elijah's fingers. Elijah swears at him at lets go of the waistband of Dom's underwear. "You can't change your mind whenever you feel like it." Squirming out from underneath Elijah, Dom stalks to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the draining board and filling it with tap water. He takes a little sip, feels instantly nauseous, and pours it down the drain.

"You're so boring these days, you know that?" Elijah says from the doorway. "Why did you even fucking move here if all you planned to do was mope? It's just fucking _boring_ , Dominic." 

Dom looks at the floor and shrugs, waiting until he hears their - _Elijah's_ \- bedroom door close before retreating to the sofa. He lays back down, pulls the quilt back up and lights another cigarette. 

Two hours later he climbs silently into bed beside Elijah, rolling onto his side when Elijah automatically moves to press up against him. Elijah's body is overly warm, slightly damp with sleep-sweat. When he whispers against Dom's neck, Dom can still smell the alcohol. "Don't go home, okay?" 

"I don't even know where that is anymore," Dom replies.


End file.
